


The Unexpected Visitor and/or How To Even The Score!

by cavymadlynanha (Trialia)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Business, Deception, Gen, Money, Passive-aggression, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/pseuds/cavymadlynanha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How sweet revenge can be, and how misleading rumours... [Posted on behalf of my late mother, who was starting to get into online proto-fandom prior to her death; she'd have loved AO3.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected Visitor and/or How To Even The Score!

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Lynn (cavymadlynanha) sometime between November 1994 - July 1999; posthumously beta-read and posted by Trialia.

  Instinctively I mistrusted her. I couldn't understand, for a moment or two, why she was here. The friendly overtures were completely uncharacteristic. She was totally different in her attitude towards me, almost to the point of fawning over me whereas a week before, or even just a couple of days ago, she had been a spiteful, bullying harridan—and that was being polite. Yet this was happening. She _was_ here, on my doorstep, smiling like a Cheshire cat and purring with goodwill. What was she up to? Think! Think for Pete's sake! What did she want?

  Then . . . I knew. I realised why I was being "honoured" with a visit from the erstwhile bane of my life. I decided to play along and asked her to come in.

  She couldn't have been nicer. She complimented everything. New, old, neat, tatty. Everything was ". . . Marvellous, dahling," or "Oh isn't that sweet?" and "Gorgeous, doesn't it go well with your decor?"

  Never had someone who considered herself so high and mighty grovelled so low to one whom she considered beneath her. I was enjoying myself. If anyone had told me that I would ever have been in this position and enjoying having her in my home, I would have said that they were lying. And I would have been _so wrong_.

  After about half-an-hour, by which time she could find nothing else to enthuse over, came crunch time.

  "Sweetie?"  
  
This was going to be  really good.

  "Sweetie?"

  "Yes?"

  "You know about the boutique, don't you?"  
  
So _passé_ that word. 

  "Yes, I know about it."

  "Do you think you might like to become a partner? With me? In the business?"

Better and Better!

  "What would I have to do?"

  "Nothing much. Not really. Just . . . invest a little capital." CRUNCH!!

  "How much?"

  "Whatever you like."

  "For a partnership? Truly?"

  "Yes. Truly. I've already had the papers drawn up, so all you need to do is sign on the dotted line."

  "Sounds marvellous. I can't believe it. I'm . . ."

  "Don't say it dahling. Don't say anything. Just sign."

  I looked over the papers and noticed that nowhere was there any mention of cost at all. No figures anywhere. Not even in the small print. I could do it! I could do it!

  "Here?"

  "Yes."

  I signed. She signed. Then she said that she supposed "that we may as well get the tedious matter of the money over and done with and get on with running 'our' business". This was it! I had never realised that revenge could be so sweet. Things couldn't be much better. I went over to my handbag and took out my purse. She gasped. 

  "But . . . why do you need your purse?"

  "It's where I keep my money."

  "Surely not! W . . . what about your lottery win?"

  "Yes. Here. You can take all of it."

  ". . . All of it? . . ."

  "Yes. All fifty pounds."

  "F . . . fifty pounds?"

  "Uh-huh. That's what I won."

  "I . . . I . . . Oh my god!"

  "Don't blaspheme," I smiled, "God can't get you out of this one . . . _partner_!" 

She fainted.

**Author's Note:**

> All I've done is typed it up and fixed one single slip of tense; otherwise, this whole thing, formatting of title and text included, is as my mother originally wrote and edited it on paper. -- Trialia


End file.
